


The Picture of Health

by oddishly



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-03
Updated: 2012-03-03
Packaged: 2017-11-01 01:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddishly/pseuds/oddishly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No man nor beast nor ghouly thing has ever shown Dean Winchester the inside of a bubblebath before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Picture of Health

Dean's not sick. Dean doesn't get sick. Dean's the picture of health 100% of the time, occasionally pissed off with Sam but usually too busy adoring him, occasionally dead but always on the way back to full spirits, occasionally hungover but that doesn't count.

So this is just a sniffle.

(Dean occasionally gets a sniffle.)

It doesn't merit whatever the fuck Sam thinks he's doing with that kettle of water or the purple bath stuff. Dean's sure Sam's just screwing with him, Sam wouldn't do anything like force Dean into a fucking _bubble_ bath when Dean's too tired from his long day of throwing paper aeroplanes at Sam's head to resist. Also the walls in there are lots of different shades of psychedelic blue. _No one_ likes spending any length of time with that sort of colour. Give Dean a nice, earthy red any day. Or green. Something that doesn't make all the walls start spinning.

He decides to check anyway. "Sammy," he says from the bed. Very distinctly.

Sam ignores him and takes the kettle into the bathroom again.

"Sammy," Dean tries again, a little bit louder. "That better not be what I think it is."

He's kind of proud of how clear that comes out until he remembers that he's not sick and that speaking clearly isn't something to be proud of.

Sam sticks his head out of the bathroom door to peer at Dean. "Did you say something?"

Dean gives him a vicious sneer. It's so vicious that it makes _himself_ sneeze, so he's a little bit scared to open his eyes in case Sam's like, dead on the floor with his head singed off, but when he convinces himself to peek through his eyelashes Sam's head is completely intact and his face looks exactly the same as it always does. 

Sam comes all the way into the room. "All right," he says. "Up."

Dean frowns. No man nor beast nor ghouly thing has ever shown Dean Winchester the inside of a bubblebath before. His little brother is the last person in the world who'll succeed in it.

"C'mon," Sam continues. He jerks his head back at the bathroom. It kinda makes him look like a shampoo model. Dean snickers. "Up. In."

"I'm not a _girl_ ," Dean tells him. "I have a dick. A really big one."

"I know, I'm very familiar with it. You also have a cold. A really big cold." 

"A sniffle," Dean corrects. He lets Sam pull him off the bed, though, because Sam did agree that he had a big dick and it's nice to be nice. Not that he's going to make it obvious how easily he's given in. He clears his throat. "I'm putting up with this –" wait for it – "because you're worth it, Sammy."

Sam, for some god knows what reason, looks back over his shoulder and squeezes Dean's hand. "I love you, too," he says, all fond and disgusting. Dean squeezes back, largely bewildered but deciding now would be an excellent time to pick his battles. Then Sam shoves him through the door. The walls are still really fucking blue. "But you're still having a bath."

"But Sammy – "

"But Sammy nothing," Sam tells him. He strips Dean of his comforter with deft fingers and tosses it into a corner of the bathroom, and doesn't even cop a feel as he manoeuvres him towards the tub. Dean was totally right, there are bubbles overflowing down the side already and Dean isn't even in it yet. 

Not that he's getting in. 

"Think again," Sam says. Dean blinks before remembering that Sam got all psychic for a while there. "I'm not psychic," Sam says patiently. "But you're getting in."

Ha! Dean sees his game. Sam thinks Dean's going to just get in.

"Yup," says Sam.

"Stop doing that," says Dean. He decides the best way to stop Sam just depositing him in the water (and no doubt taking lots of pictures, Dean knows all his brother's tricks) is to plaster himself up against him and wrap his arms tight around Sam's waist. And pretend he's got the energy to hump him a little. "Come in with me," he says. "I might drown, Sammy. Then where would you be."

"Unfit for the earth," Sam says into his hair. It's kind of muffled. Dean snuggles in closer to hear better. "But on the plus side, no more snoring."

Dean shakes his head. "Real men snore," he says. "You'll get there one day."

Sam rolls his eyes. Dean doesn't need to see it to know it. "You won't drown," he tells Dean. "I'm going to sit on the edge just to make sure."

Dean leans up and presses his lips to the underside of Sam's jaw. "No one's going to see," he says. "Just us in here. I'm the only one who'll ever know you risked your macho for me."

"Dean," Sam starts, doing his best to unwind Dean's arms from around him. "You need to – "

"Unless Bobby's watching," Dean continues thoughtlessly. Sam freezes. "He might be sitting on the toilet seat right now and watching us. We'd never know."

Then his brain catches up. 

"Wow," says Sam.

They turn their heads in unison to stare at the toilet. (Dean takes a break halfway through turning to sneeze again.)

"Probably not," Sam says after a minute. His voice is all about-to-run-off-screaming.

"Way nicer places to be," Dean agrees in almost exactly the same tone. Better places like right here, in Sam's arms. Not that Dean's going to tell Sam that, no need to. Bobby definitely isn't here. Dean is.

Sam tightens those same arms again and smiles against Dean's hair. Dean doesn't need to see it to know that, either.

"If you really want," says Sam, "I'll get in with you."

That's good, it means the whole Bobby moment has passed. 

"Dean," warns Sam in his most terrifying voice.

Dean makes really short work of getting Sam out of his clothes. It mostly involves leaning against the wall where Sam puts him and directing all Sam's clothes off his body, and before he knows it, Sam is stark naked and wrapping himself up around Dean's body again. This is Dean's absolute favourite way for Sam to be, he decides at once.

"I'd be all wet and soapy as well if you'd let us get in," Sam says. "We could pretend you're well enough to have wet, soapy sex with me. I'm just saying."

"Always said you were the smart one," Dean replies, and lets Sam manipulate one of each of their feet into the tub. Water slops all over the place but it's okay, they don’t pay the cleaning bill. Or won't, anyway. 

"Well done," says Sam encouragingly. He's got both hands braced on Dean's chest, holding him up and stopping him from falling and dying. Sam's good at that.

"Sometimes," Sam whispers against the back of his neck.

Dean doesn't like that note in Sam's voice. It's the same one Dean's been trying to pull out of him for months, ever since the warehouse. Ever since hell. Sometimes he thinks he's getting somewhere. Other times they're standing two feet in, two feet out of an overflowing bathtub, Sam clutching onto Dean so tight that Dean can't breathe.

"You can't breathe anyway, dude," Sam mumbles, but he relaxes his arms a little bit anyway. Not much. Just enough that Dean can wrap his fingers around Sam's forearm. 

He grips tight and gets his other foot inside the tub, and doesn't knock them over or out or anything while he does it. "Get your leg in," he says to Sam. "You're holding us up."

"Holding _you_ up," Sam says pissily, but he does as he's told and sits them down and wraps his arms tight around Dean again with the water slopping over, and Dean decides not to correct him.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Picture of Health [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5067922) by [oddishly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddishly/pseuds/oddishly)




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